


Never Recover

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:45:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian knows what will happen if he gives in after the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Recover

_I’ve never felt this way, but I know it’s something I want. Am I ready for this?_

Ian sat up in his bed and rubbed his hands over his face. The late-night moon was peeking through the curtains. He couldn’t get to sleep. His time with Mickey kept running through his mind. He placed his arms under his head and let his thoughts unfold, relaxing his muscles and sinking fully into his bed. It was bad enough when he thought about Mickey every day he was locked away. Now the boy was starting to keep him up at night. It was ridiculous. He’d tried at first to back off a little and remind himself of everything that couldn’t be, but all it took was an early release and a few hours at a dugout, to get his mind jumping at the possibilities. And the worst part was, he knew something was starting the minute their eyes met. He wasn’t sure what. He tried to dismiss it as simply a product of absence. He trained, he made more study sessions with his brother, he trained some more. He made sure he was keeping up in all his classes at school, and even offered to not just do more chores, but to watch his siblings. Nothing seemed to quench the budding thirst. Many times he locked the door and used his hand, as he thought of nothing but the sex. But he just couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to something said, or a secret glance. It was like his whole body was trying to tell him what he already knew. He didn’t want to stomp all over these feelings before they even got started, because they were different than any he’d had before. And now it was making his heart ache.

Ian kicked his blankets off and slid out of his bed, sneaking out of the room. Quietly he crept through the house and down the stairs, embracing the dark semi-solitude. He hadn’t wanted to take the shirt he’d been wearing all day off. He couldn’t even handle what it was doing to him. It smelled undeniably of missed recklessness and playful want: spilled beer, outdoors, and two sets of dry sweat. He’d started to take it off, but told himself it would make their meeting all the more real, so he left it on. Ian probably twisted it every way it could go, just to prepare himself if he was wrong, but there was no way he saw that being the case. He couldn’t dampen the overpowering emotion rising inside of him, or the consuming revelation it caused. Would it be so terrible to listen to what it had to say?

Ian wiped absentmindedly at his brow, not feeling the smile growing on his face. He pulled himself up onto the kitchen counter and put a palm to his chest; his legs swung with restless awakening. His stomach wiggled and he felt lightheaded, as he sunk backwards in time. He recalled the familiar ease of talking, as though the time apart had only been a couple of hours. The sidelong glances and longing gazes, as they sat in comfortable silence. The unnecessary-but-welcomed lingering hand that held the can to his lips, and the not-so-subtle demand to get to the point of all of their waiting. It wasn’t surprising, so he happily obliged and got into position like nothing had changed. The first round squelched the fire, and the second was even better. He was tame and controlled, then free and unrestrained. The pace was steady and concentrated, and got hurried and unstable. The body at his mercy was irresistible, and plowed into it. The way their flesh slapped together was like a relentless high, and only added to the clinking of the fence and the erupting spray of the sprinklers. The momentum that kept them going was an unstoppable force, sending a current passing through them. Their extremities tingled and buzzed, as the sweet sounds of pleasure echoed in their ears. They were feral. It was unimaginable and awesome, and when their lust petered out, a heavy calm slipped over them. Every look, laugh, lick of the lips, empty taunt, whispered word and shared cigarette was so clear to him, it was like he was still standing in the open air and dry dirt of the field. By the time Ian went back to his bed and closed his eyes, he knew what his heart was trying to tell him all along. He pulled the blankets up and turned over, finally able to admit it to himself and rest. As he drifted off to sleep knowing he was falling for Mickey, Ian knew he would never recover.


End file.
